


Alternative Scenes to the B-Negative Raid

by Tanda



Category: The Rat Patrol
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanda/pseuds/Tanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The episode "The B-Negative Raid" is one of my favourites. But always it was interesting to me - as a plot how would it change, if Dietrich was blood type B-negative? I am very to thankful to Nomad (nomadicwriter) for her help in reproducing of quotations from an episode, and also correcting the English of the computer translation from Russian. Without the assistance of Nomad this story would not be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternative Scenes to the B-Negative Raid

Having left Tully with Moffitt, who could have been taken for dead if not for the hardly audible heartbeat and almost imperceptible breathing, Troy and Hitch hastened to Dietrich’s camp.

*** *** ***  
Dietrich washed his hands as he listened to the babble of the young officer.  
"But, Captain, I was fortunate to save as much as I did."  
The Hauptmann answered icily, constraining bitter humour not without effort. "Fortunate to lose an entire convoy? Towel, please."  
The officer brought Dietrich a towel and continued to confess helplessly. "They came from nowhere."  
Dietrich couldn't refuse himself the pleasure of repeating almost literally the words that had been said by this Neuling (Novice) only a week ago, when he’d arrived at Dietrich’s camp and learned about the usual consequences of attack by Sergeant Troy and his men: "A German convoy, armed, against two jeeps and four Americans... and you consider it fortunate that five of you got away? Don't you think that's ridiculous?"  
It remained unclear whether the officer understood his mistake, because at that moment the first explosion sounded, and both officers ran out of the tent.  
Having looked at the flaring truck, Dietrich looked back and called to Müller, who hid behind the next truck, staring at the flame in fear.  
"Müller! Müller! Komm hier. Was ist passiert?" ("Müller! Come here! What happened? ")  
"Ich habe nichts gesehen, Hauptmann. Ich weiss nicht!" ("I didn't see anything, Captain. I don't know! ") Müller mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and shrinking away from a fresh explosion.  
"Fahren sie sofort vom Feuer weg. Eilung!" (“Get the truck away from the fire. Scram!”) Dietrich ordered.  
Müller saluted and ran to carry out the order.  
After watching him leave, the Hauptmann ordered the Neuling (as Dietrich called him mentally): “Suchen die das Lager." ("Search the camp")  
"Jawohl!" ("Yes sir!") the officer answered, and after calling to two soldiers, "Los, herüber!" ("Come on, this way!") he escaped.

*** *** ***  
Dietrich slowly went back to the tent. Before entering, he turned around and gloomily examined the crests of the hills surrounding the camp. Then he went into the tent and took out a cigarette. Having found no lighter, the Hauptmann approached the table to pick it up. At that moment, something that he identified as the barrel of a gun was slightly but noticeably stuck into his back.  
Dietrich turned sharply and stood with his mouth slightly open, stunned by the impossible fact – before him stood Sergeant Troy in person, undoubtedly resolute.  
"You want a light, Captain?" the Sergeant said in low tones, bringing a lighter to Dietrich's cigarette. "I need your help."  
Not losing the stunned look, Dietrich took the lit cigarette out of his mouth, but said nothing.  
When Dietrich didn’t answer or seem to understand, the Sergeant repeated forcefully, "I need your help!"  
Dietrich found his voice at last. "A rather unusual way of asking for it, Sergeant."  
Troy answered with a hint of humour: "I'm not asking."  
"Do you know what happens if I shout?" Dietrich asked carefully.  
Troy answered with a curved grin. "Do you?"  
Dietrich slowly sat down at the table. "What do you want?" he asked.  
"One of my men needs blood," Troy declared.  
"This isn't a medical unit, Sergeant. We have no blood supplies," the Hauptmann objected.  
"I didn't think…" Troy started to say, but he was prevented from finishing the phrase by voices outside. "Tss. Very, very careful, Captain," Troy whispered, pulling back into cover. Dietrich didn't move, looking towards the Sergeant with a frown.  
Hitch entered the tent. "Don't move!" he said.  
Troy, having exhaled with relief, left his hiding place. "He's not going anywhere. Get it?" he said to Dietrich.  
"I found a cooperative medic,” Hitch said.  
"Yeah, I bet you did.” Troy quickly checked the package that Hitch showed him. “This'll do."  
"I told you we don't have any blood, Sergeant,” Dietrich repeated, still not understanding what Troy was hoping for.  
"You've got troops, you've got blood," the Sergeant answered.  
The Hauptmann at last understood. "It's a live donor?"  
"That's right. Type B-negative."  
Dietrich, whose tendency to fatalism had increased recently as result of collisions with Troy, felt suddenly hopeless: that was his blood type. In this situation he couldn't send someone from the troops, but was obliged to go himself.  
However, it was still necessary to find one thing out. "All right. But, Sergeant, what will you do with this donor then? Will you take them to your camp as a prisoner?”  
It seemed that until that minute Troy hadn’t reflected on it; his purpose was to rescue Moffitt, and the rest was unimportant. After thinking on it for a few seconds, he shrugged his shoulders. "It’s not nearby. I have a man seriously wounded – why go to the trouble of taking a prisoner? I’ll bring him back here, as close as possible to the camp."  
"All right," the Hauptmann repeated. Slowly, so as not to provoke the Sergeant with a sharp movement, he took his ID tag from under his shirt and held it out to Troy in his open palm.  
The Sergeant took the ID and stared at the unclear text. Then he darted a glance at Dietrich and found him looking back quietly and knowingly.  
"You don't read German, do you?” he said. “It's Blutgruppe for blood type. B-negativ for B-negative."  
Troy’s eyes sparkled angrily, but he found the necessary information on the ID tag. Having been convinced that the Hauptmann had the correct blood, the Sergeant returned his ID to him and nodded. "Very well, captain. Let’s go." He pointed to the back wall of the tent.  
Dietrich moved in the specified direction, and Troy stepped behind him.  
Then Troy picked up some American dogtags he saw lying on a shelf. "What’s this?" he asked. The Hauptmann looked back.  
"Ah... an American deserter, Corporal Pennell. My people took him prisoner. The first time he was in battle he ran like a rabbit."  
The Sergeant only doubted it for an instant.  
"Get him. Just him," he said.  
Dietrich understood Troy’s meaning, and went back to pick up the phone without objection.  
"Hauptmann Dietrich hier. Bringen Sie Gefreiten Pennell bald herein. Danke."  
Hitchcock took up a position by the entrance to the tent, and Troy stepped back into hiding. Dietrich turned towards the table.  
"Captain," Troy said, cautioning.  
The Hauptmann turned around, slightly at a loss. "No tricks, Sergeant."  
"You’re learning." Troy smiled.  
"I have a very good teacher," Dietrich murmured, again turning to the entrance.  
While they waited for the corporal, the Hauptmann stood motionless, smiling slightly at the absurdity of the situation. Now that he was able to think over what had happened, he couldn’t help but admire Troy’s actions.  
That didn’t stop him from making an effort to escape when Troy and Hitchcock were forced to concentrate on Pennell. Dietrich tried to reach the exit, but someone’s leg got in his way, and he tripped and fell, smacking his head against a closet. He was still sitting on the floor, stunned by the blow, when Troy and Hitchcock calmed the corporal and went back to him.  
"Pennell, you help the captain move," Troy ordered.

*** *** ***  
Tully, not expecting four people to be coming in the jeep, was alarmed at first, but then he recognized Troy and Hitch and relaxed.

Afterwards, looking at his bandaged hand and the still-unconscious Moffitt, Dietrich remembered something.  
"Sergeant," he called to get Troy’s attention. "I heard an amusing story recently,” he said. “I was told that a group of Allied soldiers changed their clothes to get help for their injured in one of our hospitals.”  
"It was probably when that grenade exploded right near me,” Hitch supposed.  
"Yes," Troy confirmed. "Hitchcock needed an urgent operation."  
"So I thought." The Hauptmann smiled. "Who except you would do such a thing – and well enough to get away? I don’t know, Sergeant, whether you’re mad or simply lucky."  
Troy smiled. "Only out of necessity,” he said. “If Moffitt’s blood type was even B-positive rather than B-negative, we wouldn’t have needed your help".  
“But mine’s B-negative too!” the corporal remarked in surprise.  
They all turned on him.  
"Why didn’t you say?!” Troy began to roar at him.  
"But you didn’t ask," Pennell answered, barely heard.  
"Really, Sergeant," Dietrich hemmed.  
Troy only shook his head. "Once upon a time I didn’t used to feel so stupid," he mumbled.  
Then Dietrich and Troy looked at each other and burst out laughing.  
“You know, Sergeant," the Hauptmann finally declared, "the only thing I regret about this business is that I won’t get to see Sergeant Moffitt’s face when he learns exactly what happened."  
"Well," Troy hemmed, "it’s not a problem, Captain. Pennell has the same blood type. So we can tell Moffitt that the donor was Pennell, and I’ll make sure to tell him about your part in this business when you’re around. I’m sure this won’t be our last meeting. In fact, we’ve met before without shooting at each other – like that business with Faisal, or when we were in neutral territory".  
Dietrich smiled slowly. "Thank you, Sergeant," he said.  
"Hitch, Tully, you do the same," Troy said.  
"Piece of pie, Sarge." Hitch grinned, and Tully nodded silently.

*** *** ***  
"And tomorrow we'll be killing each other," Moffitt remarked philosophically, looking at the Hauptmann where he stood nearby, a container of plasma at his feet. Tully nodded.  
Troy remembered the promise and called out to Dietrich first. "Say, Captain, how did you think of such a method to get plasma?”  
The Hauptmann turned. “You could say that I remembered some of your actions, Sergeant."  
"So I thought," a satisfied Troy remarked. He turned to Moffitt. "Jack, do you remember when you needed a transfusion?”  
Moffitt shrugged. "I was unconscious, therefore I can’t remember it. But I remember you telling me about it."  
Troy smiled. “I didn’t tell you everything then. Actually, your donor wasn’t Pennell."  
“Not Pennell?" The Englishman was surprised. "Who, then? I remember you said that no other blood type would do.”  
"It was I, Sergeant." Dietrich took a step forward.  
He enjoyed the stunned expression on Moffitt’s usually calm face. The Sergeant clearly didn’t know how to react to such staggering news. Finally, still amazed, he got out of the jeep and stood face to face with the Hauptmann.  
"So, Hauptmann, we’re Blutsbrudere (blood brothers)?” Moffitt asked quietly, so that only the two of them heard.  
Dietrich seemed a bit stunned, but admitted the Englishman’s rightness with a nod.  
"Then," Moffitt said softly, "I hope, as we haven’t killed each other yet, we’ll succeed in avoiding it in future. I still owe you that champagne. What’s your favourite?"  
"I hope that too, Sergeant… Champagne?" the Hauptmann said in confusion.  
"I promised champagne to the one who shot that madman Wansee." The Sergeant smiled.  
Dietrich inclined his head, smiling slightly.  
"I am sure, Sergeant, that I will be content with your choice."  
Moffitt nodded and got back into the jeep.  
Both Sergeants saluted Dietrich, who answered them in kind, and the jeeps drove off at a leisurely pace.


End file.
